Realization





"When does it go down?"

"It's going down tonight, big arms trade between one of the Kingpin's rivals and Pico himself."

Brock smiled, this was the story that would make his career and put Urich in his place. He was talking to a source in the back of a dive bar in the Bronx.

"And this is going to happen?" Brock asked

"Oh yeah man, it's going to happen tonight. But you got to be careful. Pico don't like don't anyone who gets in his way, especially two kinds of people."

"Who?"

"Cops and journalists."

Brock nodded and then took a long pull of his beer. He was going to witness an arms sale that involved a infamous dealer by the name of Reinaldo Pico. Who was ruthless both in his sales and his choice of new weapons technology.

"Got any idea what he's pushing?" Brock asked

The informant shook his head. "All I know he's got some new kind of gun. One that could make walls crumble."

"So, that could be done with dynamite."

"Nothing like that man, this weapon can break walls with a click of the trigger. You don't hear nothing man, maybe a slight buzzing sound but that's it."

"I got it, I got it." Brock went into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bugling envelope. He pushed across the table and the informant took and opened it. Counting the money inside.

"It's all there, $8,000." Brock said confidently

"You know I'd like to be cautious. It's all part of talking to journalists like you."

Brock smiled and enjoyed the flattery. "That's nice but you better get out of here. Get a change of scenery. Go to Cleveland, heard the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame kicks ass."

"Yeah thanks for the travel tips. Anyway we're done right?"

"We're done. Go do what you want. Thanks for the tips."

The informant stood up and was about to walk away.

"Oh by the way. If I find out this is bad info. I'll find you and give you my displeasure."

"Yeah I get the picture." He said as walked down the corridor and out onto the streets.

Brock sat there finishing off his beer. He thought about what he was doing and the possible consequences. But what did he have to lose? He had no parents, no girlfriend, nothing to tie him down. All he had was a Columbia School of Journalism degree and rent controlled apartment.

He finished his beer and walked out of the bar and back onto the city streets planning for his next move.



Things were difficult for Peter, he knew that unless he got the suit off, he may not exist for very long.

He knew that he was acting different due to the suit as it subjugated his body. Peter hoped it would not go after his soul. Seeing how he may not have long to live. Peter tried his best to amend things.

First he apologize to the bully he grabbed. Surprisingly the bully thought it was cool for Peter to that. He was getting tired of beating kids and not getting any results. One that actually fought back made it interesting again.

The next thing he had to do was explain his actions to Mary Jane. Without giving too many details. Relating to him being Spider-man, the alien symbiote, and how it might be taking him over.

He found her wandering the deserted halls of Midtown High. Class had gotten out thirty minutes ago. She stayed after to help out a teacher and some homework help.

"Mary Jane" Peter told her in his most caring voice. "I want to apologize for how I acted two days ago. I'm sure you thought this was scary. But I want to let you know I will never act like that. I'm working on the problem."

She didn't say anything as he followed out of school and onto the street.

"Look this isn't something like on COPS where I say one thing and do another. I mean it. In fact I promise that I'll be better in just a short amount of time."

Mary Jane stopped walking and looked at Peter right in the eye. "Peter, I accept your apology and I hope you work it out. But until then you take all the time you need to work out this problem. I'll be waiting for you when your well, tiger."

Peter smiled, there was hope still for the two of them.







Night settled on New York City and the city responded by illuminating it's glass and steel towers. For Eddie Brock he enjoyed working in the night. The shadows and darkness seem to complement how he felt about his job. To find the truth in dank, depths of society.

Tonight he found himself trying to get into a industrial warehouse in Brooklyn.



"This here gentlemen is the latest in weapon's technology." Pico said as he opened a wooden crate revealing two modified rifles.

The two men looked at the guns and one of them picked it up and looked at it. His name was Vinnie Decarlo: A Capo in the Teldone mafia. The other man who was older and had more experienced was a weapon's dealer himself. His name was Mike Langstrom.

"This is something!" Decarlo remarked. "What is it exactly?"

"Sonic weaponry." Pico said

"Excuse me?"

"I know it's strange to be here. But this is the latest creation. The beauty of this is that you can knock down walls with little or no noise."

"Walls such as bank vaults or armored cars." Langstrom remarked

"Exactly, this technology was developed in the field of demolition." Pico said. "Now it's going into more lucrative fields."

"Nice" Langstrom then gave a sly smile.

As they continued to talk, Eddie Brock finally got into the warehouse. He noticed the crates and three men in the central loading area. There were other boxes inside the room and Brock tried use them for cover.

He skulked through the dark hallways and platforms of the warehouse hoping not to get notice. But he needed to get close enough to hear what was going on.

With a micro-recorder in his hand, Brock made his way to the main floor where the men were. He got himself behind some large crates and watched through a crack made between the boxes.

"This all seems well and good. But why should my boss spend a lot cashola to but some fancy-ass guns?" Decarlo remarked

"I knew I'd be answered that question. That's why I set up a demonstration. Pico walked over to one side of the warehouse where there were several large objects covered by tarps. He walked over and pulled each tar off. Revealing several large pieces of sheet rock, steel, and even marble.

"Now who'd like to go first?" Pico asked

Langstrom raised his hand. "Oh, me, oh, oh." He said while chuckling

"Be my guest."

He took the gun from the crate and walked over to where the rocks were.

"Now" Pico instructed to him. "You must be at least twenty feet away from the object you will blast otherwise you not be able to feel your arms afterwards."

Langstrom nodded, he then handled the rifle like any other gun. He then aimed it at the large pile of sheet rock. He stood there making sure his aim was right before pulling the trigger. He then pulled it and heard nothing.

"Now hold the trigger down, keep it down, and watch." Pico said to him

After a few seconds, Langstrom heard a slight buzzing sound that grew louder and louder. As that happened, the sheet rock began quiver and then shook with more violence. Cracks started to appear in the rock and the longer he held the trigger. The more cracks appeared.

"It's working!" Pico shouted as the buzzing got louder.

The sound starting to resemble a jack hammer. But the sheet rock was weakening fast. The sound reached its peak to a near ear-splitting sound when the rocks crumbled into a shattered heap. Langstrom removed his finger on the trigger.

"Amazing!" He shouted

"Ya damn right it is." Brock said to himself

Pico gave a large smile. "Now Mr. Decarlo, your turn"

Decarlo went up and clutched the rifle, this time he aimed it at the marble. "I always wanted to do some sculpting." He then laughed at his own joke.

He pulled the trigger and the noise reappeared. But unlike the sheet rock, the marble stood its ground. The noise continued to grow in intensity. It was starting to bother Brock.

Just as it reached jack hammer levels only a few cracks appeared. Only few more appeared when it reached it's highest point. Then the noise only got worse. Brock started to feel pain in his head, he was starting to lose consciousness.

Now there were bigger cracks in the marble. Just as it broke apart, Brock collapsed knocking over the crates. They broke with a loud crash, although it wasn't heard due to the rifle's noise.

After taking more time, the marble crumpled into a fine powder. Decarlo released the trigger and handed the rifle over to Pico. He then pulled out some high tech ear-plugs from his ears. As did Langstrom and then Pico.

"Amazing, the boss will love this." Decarlo remarked. He then turned around and noticed some shattered crates. "Hey what happened there? Did the gun do that?"

"No" Pico said with defiance. "The weapons will only destroy what is being pointed at them."

"Better take a look."

Decarlo, Langstrom, and Pico pulled out there guns and went over to the shattered crates. After pushing some of the loose wood. They found a body laying on top of the wood. He was still breathing.

"Who is this?" Langstrom asked

Pico noticed a recorder and then went for the man's wallet. He discovered a wallet, but there was no ID on the guy.

"Maybe a competitor, a journalist, or a cop."

"Guy looks like a cop. I mean he's built like one. Smart idea of his not to carry his ID. But that means he maybe resting in Potter's field after all this is done." Declaro remarked.

"While we could just take of him right here." Langstrom said

"Maybe so, but why not test the guns on him. It'll be just a little more messy."

"All right, you know I hate to clean up blood."

They picked up Brock's body and dragged over to the testing area. They then took some rope and bounded him to the steel as if it were a James Bond film.

Once he was secure. Decarlo gave him a swift punch in the stomach. That woke Brock up.

He let out a huge moan and then opened his eyes. That was met with a punch to the face. Decarlo continued to beat up Brock till he was very bloody.

"Well whoever you are." Pico remarked "You're going to play a very important experiment. Do you know what that is?"

Brock stared at him, he felt like his jaw was broken.

"Well it's hard to explain, but it will be painful right up until your organs burst." He looked at Decarlo and Langstrom. "Let's fire it up."

He then moved back to this time at least thirty feet, making sure his clothes weren't going to messed by the man's body parts.

"Ready?" He asked both men. They nodded and put their ear plugs in. They each had a sonic rifle and aimed it at Brock. And as if they were counting 1,2,3 in their heads. They all pulled their triggers at the same time.





To Be Conitnued